Fall Apart
by Nevoreiel
Summary: chapter 4 uploaded:: A mind haunted by memories; a mind tortured by forced visions; the Dark Lord who was the cause of it all; who will fall apart first?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** **Fall Apart – Chapter 1**

**Author:** **Nevoreiel**_(lamort_noir@hotmail.com)_

**Pairing:** **Draco/Harry**

**Rating:** **R**

**Summary:** A mind haunted by memories; a mind tortured by forced visions; the Dark Lord who was the cause of it all; who will fall apart first?

**Disclaimer:** All familiar characters and situations are Copyright by J. K. Rowling and Co.            

**Warning:** This story is SLASH (male/male relationship), also extreme violence and scenes of torture; the R rating is for a reason. 

**Notes:** The first installment of a short story written for the horror of reading. Thanks goes to my beta, Jessica!

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The images assaulted relentlessly and they burned holes in his mind like caustic acid. The screams felt penned up in Harry's head, reverberating as if in a cave. But instead of lessening in sound and intensity they grew greater and became nothing short of unbearable.

The faces that he saw might as well have been all identical for the pain that was etched in the open mouth and staring eyes, eyes that accused, disfiguring the whole expression.

Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, bolted upright in his bed as bright red eyes invaded the scene. His scar burned terribly and the horrible chuckle lingered even as the images bled away from the reality of the hazy light surrounding the four-poster bed.

It was Christmas morning but if judging by the beginning of the day, the rest of it wasn't going to be much better. The whole break wasn't any better, granted it wasn't the most horrible of breaks...but then it wasn't the most wonderful either. Staying at the Hogwarts castle wasn't exactly the grandest vocation but since Death Eater activity had peaked a few months before, leaving the castle – now appropriately on high alert and with heightened security – would have been foolish and unnecessary.

The Dark Lord surely wouldn't halt his evil schemes just so Harry Potter could spend a nice Christmas with the Weasleys, which is completely ridiculous. As Voldemort believed, the Potter nuisance should have as much fun as a dead rat.

Delivering gruesome half-visions, half-nightmares as often as possible had become his favored weapon. As Voldemort could not destroy The Boy Who Lived physically, mentally was the next best thing. On this night of all nights, he did not fail to deliver.

Harry clutched convulsively at his forehead as his scar throbbed painfully with faint traces of a Crucio spell, cast on another one of Voldemort's numerous victims. This was one of the more vivid scenes of torture that he had to endure and he struggled to suppress the images that lingered. But whether he wanted it or not, the details started to emerge.

  
A sudden image, of someone lying pathetically at the Dark Lord's feet, flashed before Harry's eyes and he gasped at the intensity and vivid color. The figure was covered with red streaks but no matter how dirty and bloody the trembling body was, it was no mistaking Draco Malfoy.

**- - -**

Draco was awakened by rough hands as he was shaken awake and promptly hauled out of bed. His breath hissed through his clenched teeth.

"Quiet, Mr. Malfoy," the voice was familiar. So it was Professor Snape who was dragging him to his feet, none too gently, by his collar and throwing a pair of shoes at him.

Draco knew better then to protest or ask questions and they quickly and silently made their way through the dark corridors of Malfoy Manor. Not speaking was certainly alright-but young Mr. Malfoy was getting panicked as he realized that their destination was the dungeons below Malfoy Manor.

He stumbled and almost fell while descending the moss covered dungeon steps. If it had not been for the steadying hand on his arm he certainly would have fallen. Glancing up he saw the black silhouette of the cloaked figure, menacing with its lack of color and expression. But comfort lay in the fact that it was his Head of House and not some mindless goon.

They finally emerged in the cavernous main "hall". That is, if you could call a stone room with torches set in small niches, a hall. The sparse light illuminated a gathering of black cloaked and sinister figures and it resembled a twisted funeral.

The figures stood in a circle with a gap large enough for one person. Professor Snape stepped towards this gap and roughly pushed Draco through it, stepping nearer, closing the space, and completing the circle.

Draco stumbled and warily gazed around at the black holes instead of faces, all stood like stone statues, immovable and eternally cold. He was trapped and he knew it but the purpose of the whole gathering was completely unknown to him.

Another figure slowly moved towards the circle, emerging from the dark hallway leading into the heart of the dungeons. Fear clawed its way up and Draco trembled as the figure advanced. Twin red orbs stared at him and his knees grew weak. Voldemort.

"So glad you could join us Draco," the voice was papery thin and made you want to clasp your hands to your ears to shut it out, "my, my, you've grown." The circle shifted to let the cloaked and hooded figure inside and then assembled itself back into a circle. No escape.

Voldemort lifted his bony hands and pushed the hood off his head, his hideous face was as bad as his voice had been. Snake-like and emaciated, he was a horror to behold and those red eyes made him look feral.

Draco was ready to collapse as the figure circled him and seemed to size him up.

"Lucius." The Dark Lord regarded Draco with predatory eyes.

"Yes, milord?" The voice belonged to his father and it sounded pitiful and ready to please.

"You've displeased me, Lucius." His wand was taken out and the Death Eaters shifted visibly.

One of the figures fell to its knees, "I'm ready to do anything – "

"Silence, you fool. I did not ask you to speak!" The figure further lowered itself and seemed to be praying, lying prostrate on the stone floor. No response. "You see, Lucius, I begin to doubt your devotion to the cause. You're not as fervent as you've been in earlier years. I think we need a little incentive to make you see that **our cause holds top priority over everything else." This was punctuated with a lazy flick of the wand and one small word: "Crucio."**

The one who was on the receiving end of the wand writhed helplessly as gurgled screams filled the cavernous room. The hood fell away and Lucius Malfoy was revealed, not that Draco had any doubt, but seeing his father contract in agony was painful to watch and he turned away.

The screams were cut off abruptly and dry, cold fingers grasped his chin and turned his head violently to face front where his father was awkwardly getting up and fixing his robes and hair.

"Don't turn away, Draco, it's so much more entertaining to watch." The eyes stared Draco down and since he could not turn his face away he lowered his eyes submissively. The touch of that skin revolted him and if he hadn't been so scared, he would have vomited whatever was trying to crawl out of his stomach currently.

"I think I know how you could prove to me, Lucius, that our cause is the most…important." Voldemort smiled and his face shifted, making the smile look grotesque, like a grinning skull. His hand released its harsh grip and one of those fingers, thin as a stick, caressed his cheek. The gentle touch quickly turned into a harsher one as the Dark Lord pressed his nail into Draco's cheek and dragged it down, raising blood. Draco winced but otherwise did not give any other indication that the touch felt like poison, eating away at him.

Lucius gave no sign that this was affecting him in the slightest. "Whatever you wish, milord."

"Splendid, then let the amusements begin." The revolting figure finally released Draco completely, and the blonde was ready to faint from the emotional and physical strain of it all.

Voldemort beckoned to one of the figure in the circle, "Come here, Severus," the figure in question stepped forward and bowed. "I have a job for you. Go to the storage cabinet and get me the largest whip that you can find. I'm sure there'll be something suitable."

With another bow, Professor Snape departed, Draco looked after him mournfully. Seeing that look, the Dark Lord gripped the blonde's hair and tugged at it, making Draco expose his pale throat. "Don't worry, Draco, he'll be back." The grip loosened and Voldemort threaded his fingers in the blonde head, mockingly caressing it and then quickly jerking his hand away. The fear in Draco's stomach started eating away at his insides, and all the taunting was unbearable.

"And you, Lucius," that bone of a finger pointed accusingly at the impassive Lucius, "better be on your best behavior, our sport today will not be ruined on your account." The elder Malfoy nodded, his hood was never pulled back up and Draco saw that his father was resolute and infinitely cold, no comfort to be found.

Footsteps echoed in the dungeon, Severus Snape was returning, walking with a measured step. He was holding before him, on his upturned palms, a whip made of black leather but instead of one tail it branched out into nine.

Draco started trembling violently and it wasn't the chill of the stone walls and floor that affected him so. He suddenly realized that his presence there meant many unpleasant things for him. He felt cornered and sure that no one was going to come to his aid, not his father, not Professor Snape, no one. He also realized that he hated Voldemort for what he was doing and whatever it was that was going to be done to him, hated him utterly, even more than he had hated Potter.

Voldemort gestured for the whip to be handed to him, once he had it he stroked it thoughtfully, "Such a beautiful thing. Sometimes Muggles do make the most wonderful devices. Restrain him," he pointed out two of the men with the whip, the tails swinging, "the rest – wait your turn and do keep an eye on Lucius. I just don't know if he can stay in the spirit of it all."

Draco stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide, not resisting when the two men each took an arm and roughly wrenched them away from his body, pushing apart his feet at the same time. He felt vulnerable and open to anything. The goons hanging on his arms seemed to take great pleasure in holding the wrists with more force then necessary.

Draco tried to find the comforting figure of his Potions Master-but he was now one of the many hooded men standing before him. Meanwhile Voldemort had looked carefully at Draco and unconsciously weighed the whip in one hand then the other. He finally walked around to the point where Draco could no longer see him.

The revolting hands were on him again but this time at the small of his back, un-tucking his silk black pajama top and pushing it up to his neck, securing it there with a muttered spell. Draco's muscles clenched as nothing happened and then the first blow landed. It fell right between his shoulder blades and it burned many bloody trails. It felt like he was being skinned alive.

He wanted to scream but the scream never got to leave his lips as another blow fell, this time lower, pure agony. He let out a piercing "No!" and heard the Dark Lord whisper in his ear, "I will rip those screams out of you but don't you dare speak!"

Draco stared ahead at his father as he was hit again, a choked gasp coming free. Lucius was still as calm as before.

"Yes, it burns you terribly, doesn't it? It was charmed exactly for that purpose." The leather whip was brought to his back where Voldemort trailed it over the bruised flesh. Draco thought that he felt the sting of broken skin but it felt much more like there was no more skin left. Tears rolled down his cheeks, he hung his head in defeat. If it were not for the two who held him, he would have keeled over.

"But I tire of this. Muggle contraptions can only take you so far," the whip was handed over to the nearest Death Eater, "have you ever felt the pain of a Cruciatus Curse, young one?" Draco's blood froze. "Well, it's about time you did. Crucio."

Pain…it was pure undiluted pain. Draco was vaguely aware that he hit the floor, hard, but the pain of the impact was nothing compared to the hands ripping at him from the inside, trying to take him apart. He was sure he was screaming but all he heard was the pain rushing through him. It seemed to last forever.

When it abruptly disappeared, Draco gasped for breath but his raw nerves ached as the cool air washed over his throat. He realized that he'd been clawing at himself and no one had cared to stop him, his shirt had many rips and tears in it, the cuts stung. The cool stone under his back felt good to his injured skin.

"Do what you like now," Voldemort turned and drifted away. The Death Eaters were ready to pounce. "But…" nobody moved, "I'd like Severus to wield the whip in my stead first. I want to hear more of those delicious screams."

The whip was handed to the figure who must have been Professor Snape as the person still wore their hood. He moved towards Draco, the latter shrinking back at the sight of the whip, trying to crawl backwards, still lying on the stone floor.

Voldemort paused, "Wait, Severus," the figure stopped, "take off your hood so young Mr. Malfoy may have someone else to stare at besides his father.

Professor Snape complied and his face was revealed, he looked as calm as Lucius. He stepped up to Draco and cocking his arm back brought the whip down on Draco's chest. The boy curled around himself at the pain but quickly uncurled when a boot kicked him in the side; it had been his Head of House's boot.

Panicked, Draco sought to escape the blows of the whip and turning onto his hands and knees he was ready stand up when that same boot pushed him down, "Crawl, worm." The comment stung but so did the whip.

Trying in vain, Draco tried to crawl away but was not fast enough and the whip always found him. Blood trickled from the hashes on his back. He moaned as his body started going numb from the shock. Snape leaned over him and pulling on his hair cruelly, leaned in even closer, whispering comforting words, "Hold on, Mr. Malfoy." The warm presence over him withdrew and Draco awaited the singing of the whip through the air, singing the song of pain, but it never came.

Voldemort had gestured "Enough." He stood for a moment as if savoring the smell of blood in the air. "Now you can do as you want…but don't kill!"

The cloaked figures swooped upon him. Someone kicked him in the ribs and someone, maybe unintentionally, stepped on his left hand. A wand was drawn over his back and the dull throbbing pain flared again making him scream in agony.

As someone cast the Cruciatus on him again he promptly blacked out and Voldemort promptly scattered his followers, reviving the young Malfoy.

Draco lay sobbing and bleeding at the Dark Lord's feet, at his mercy. "Get him out of my sight, Lucius, and get him cleaned up," Voldemort lifted his cloak off the ground as if Draco could contaminate him with his filthiness. "He should be presentable by the time he's to return to that school of his."

Professor Snape levitated the exhausted Draco and they made their way out of the dungeons. A moment later many pops were heard as the cloaked figures disapparated.

"You'll be alright, Draco," Lucius spoke to his son for the first time that night-or maybe it was morning already. Hard to tell when your head is still swimming from the pain.

And he was alright after all the potions, creams, charms, and what-nots that were designed to heal severe physical injury.

But Draco's brain was still a bit numb. One thought ran through it constantly: "Revenge will be had."

**To Be Continued…**

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**Next Installment: Look for it **Friday, March the 21st **where Harry and Draco find something in common after all but at what cost to their sanity? To receive it **Thursday, March the 20th** just sign up at the message board – I  can't post the link at stupid FF.net, so visit my website where you will click on the contacts link and follow it from there – and  all new stories and chapters will be mass e-mailed to all members. Makes my life much easier that way. The deadline is pretty stable but the numerous projects I have might disturb it, therefore the backup deadline is ****Wednesday, March the 26th.**

**A/N:** Feedback appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** **Fall Apart – Chapter 2**

**Author:** **Nevoreiel **_(lamort_noir@hotmail.com)_

**Pairing:** **Draco/Harry**

**Rating:** **R**

**Summary:** A mind haunted by memories; a mind tortured by forced visions; the Dark Lord who was the cause of it all; who will fall apart first?

**Disclaimer:** All familiar characters and situations are Copyright by J. K. Rowling and Co.

**Notes:** Very sorry for the long delay but school was terribly overbearing these last few weeks and then I just got lazy. Big thanks to Angela for beta reading!

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Draco was courteously deposited onto the Hogwarts grounds. The door of the black carriage, which had been like a cage to Draco, was promptly shut by his father. It rolled silently away.

Draco's expression was empty but sometimes a thoughtful look flitted over his face as he made his slow way towards the looming castle. Realizing that his veneer was not too convincing and just might betray the events of his Christmas "vocation", he relaxed his face. By the time he had walked across the lawn up to the massive double doors, he had schooled his features into a neutral expression.

Draco walked through the front foyer and the Great Hall and down a few staircase and corridors. No one disturbed his silence but that was mostly due to the fact that most had not yet returned from their holidays away from school.

On his thoughtful way he chanced upon Potter, looking haunted and gloomier than the Bloody Baron himself. What a travesty, the Bloody Baron should be notified immediately! But then he shouldn't be thinking of such trivialities when more important, and certainly more pressing, things had to be taken care off – Voldemort came to mind.

Upon noticing Malfoy, slowly making his way across the hall, Harry stood up straighter and steeled himself for a battle of wits. The wind was taken out of his sails when Draco kept walking, barely even glancing in Potter's direction.

Suspicious eyes followed the Slytherin but this went unnoticed. Draco was intent on pulling the Dark Lord apart with his bare hands and the screams of agony lapped at his wounded heart and shredded thoughts. And they say visualizing isn't helpful, if they only knew.

He finally reached his room and the door was softly opened and closed. Draco stood in front of the mirror on the wall and he smiled a painful looking smile. He smiled because he saw the shadow that haunted Potter's face creeping up into his own eyes, making him like Potter more than he ever wished.

It had become regular routine for the Gryffindors to ask Harry if he was alright and he faithfully replied that he was. But as the question never changed, neither did the answer. Many were sure that the Golden Boy was slowly going mad. Anyway, those who slept in the same room as him were fairly certain. After all, how many times can one put the Silencing charm on their curtains? And what about those nights when the charm was forgotten and Harry's screams of pure panic echoed in the room, only to have Ron shake him awake? And then he would deny ever uttering a sound, how could one go on without having something break inside?

Draco suddenly had an abundance of pity for the Boy Who Lived; it was a miracle that the boy was still functioning. What horrible things must he dream of, are they as horrible as what Draco experienced?

Fully clothed, Draco carefully arranged himself on his bed and with concentration stared at the canopy above him. Random bits and pieces of information and disembodied voices floated through his mind. The most prominent question was 'why', why does it happen? How can it happen to him? Is he not untouchable by evil things, pure and protected by his father?

He probably should have cried and cursed existence into the ground but there was no strength left in him for that. His muscles felt weak and useless, would have been easier if they were not there at all, less weight to carry around.

Sometime during his brainstorming state, Draco fell into a light sleep. But red eyes haunted him and soon after drifting off he woke up screaming. Now Draco knew what Potter must be going through and he felt sadness. If Potter could not get rid of the nightmares then what hope did he have of ever banishing them?

Better not waste sleep over such trivialities. Even restless sleep is preferable to troubling thoughts. Despair would be the only logical outcome to these thoughts and Draco had enough despair and pain to keep him company for a long time to come.

---

The next day the school came alive again as the students returned, albeit, reluctantly.

Harry had as bad a time sleeping as Draco. He could still hear the terrified screams and the recollections of the smell of burning flesh made him gag. When Ron and Hermione saw him they were quick to wish him happy holidays and invite him down to breakfast. Harry was just as quick to turn them down.

Harry was sleep deprived and he knew he looked it but it sure wasn't reassuring when your friends told you that you needed to get more sleep because you looked like Hell. Not exactly subtle but they were concerned so it was understandable to a degree.

Sometimes Harry had to wonder if the only reason they worried was because he was supposed to be the downfall of Voldemort. If he was not there to save the day then who would? But that was understandable as well, after all, they had their worries and Harry had his.

And so Harry nodded and smiles as some of the Gryffindors spoke to him of useless things, everything was useless for Harry these days; even the sleeping draught hasn't been helping much. If things kept going this way then those rumors concerning his sanity just might come true. The Slytherins would have a grand day spreading the news.

As soon as everyone left for breakfast, the gloom and doom settled back over Harry. Peace and quiet were not welcome at all because they ushered in memories of things that might have never been; bad memories and twisted musings. One could sit and think for a long time about such things, forget about everything but those images and thoughts and forget about living…

---

Fleeting glimpses of Malfoy around the castle were a little unnerving, especially after what he dreamt. But Malfoy didn't look like he'd been beaten senseless just a few days ago, he looked normal enough.

Maybe those dreams were just dreams and the fastest way of finding this out was asking Malfoy. But how exactly would Harry ask; if he came up to him and as inconspicuously as possible asked: "Hey Malfoy, been tortured by the Dark Lord recently?" Malfoy just might land him in the hospital wing. True, that might not be the worst option available but staring at the white walls of the infirmary just might push him over the edge. Having spent much of his Hogwarts career in and out of the hospital wing did not make it even remotely appealing. And with the rumor mill in high gear it wouldn't take a day for the word to get out, leave it to the Slytherins to make him seem unstable. Malfoy, compared to Voldemort, was just a temporary thorn in his side and maybe even a prospective ally. And so, Malfoy it is.

---

Most normal people sleep when night is late but Harry Potter was afraid of just what he'd see once his eyes closed. Flashes of ominous cloaked figures and echoes of hysterical laughter kept him wide awake. Feeling restless and agitated, Harry decided to wander the halls of Hogwarts to pass the time; perfect occasion to explore more of the secret passages and rooms that his Marauder's Map revealed.

Tapping the map with his wand, Harry glanced over it for any other lunatic like himself who might be wandering around in the corridor outside the common room. There was no one wandering near Gryffindor Tower but there was someone wandering around the 3rd floor. A small dot labeled "Draco Malfoy" seemed to be pacing back and forth in a 3rd floor corridor. The opportunity was perfect. Alone, Malfoy would at least be lacking the muscle power of his lackeys.

Seeing as neither Filch nor Snape were going to be a problem, Harry threw his Invisibility Cloak over his head and quietly left Gryffindor Tower.

---

Draco was frustrated, among other things, and he felt helpless. He could do nothing, absolutely nothing to salvage at least some of his pride. Thinking of a plan that could take the Dark Lord down a peg or two was nearly impossible. Of course if you're The Boy Who Lived no plan was needed just his stupidity. But Draco would have more luck salvaging his pride by scraping it off the dungeon stones.  
  
The frustration was wearing him down as was the constant pacing. If he had the power, which he did not, he could've tried to curse the Dark Lord but the chance of the curse actually working were very slim. After all, the bastard wouldn't die the first few times what's preventing him from living through this one? Asking help from anyone at all was out of the question, too loyal for their own well-being, like his father...it really makes you think once your own father stands by while you get beaten into oblivion and does not even bat an eyelash!  
  
Anger surged now and replaced all thoughts of self-pity and self-preservation took over. Draco seethed now and he knew that he'd figure some way to revenge himself. If he did not then he was going to go mad. Plain and simple. Although he did not know whether he was going to be made to join the Death Eaters but even if he was threatened with more torture he would not give up. If he gave in to Voldemort then he would be serving that lunatic for the rest of his life, constantly reminded of the control.

Giving up seemed the best option considering all the other options. Battling the obstacles as they appeared rather then thinking into the future, that usually proved futile when the Dark Lord was involved. But his back tingled in protest, remembering the cutting lashes, and he decided that thinking some more wasn't a bad idea after all.  
  
 But of course the best option would be letting the great Harry Potter defeat Voldemort. But that option did not exactly appeal to Draco either. In frustration he kicked the stone wall and winced when the pain shot up his leg. He muttered obscenities at the wall.  
  
A sound caught his attention; he whirled around and found Potter just standing there with an incredulous smile. Draco quickly composed himself and regarded the intruder with an air of indifference.  
  
"Nice language, Malfoy." The smile remained on the smug bastard's face.  
  
"I'm sure yours is not better, Potter. But a good question to ask right now would be what are you doing here?"  
  
The smile disappeared quickly, "I need to talk to you."  
  
The tone of voice that Potter used was way too serious for it to be just the beginning of one of their verbal spars.

When Draco said nothing, Harry became flustered. He usually did not receive such full attention from Malfoy, it was a bit disconcerting. "As you might have heard, I've not been exactly sleeping well."

"Oh, are you going to ask me to hold your hand while you sleep? Because that will not happen, Potter." Draco now stood with his arms crossed looking pleased.

"Malfoy, grow up and listen to what I say without interrupting or I'll hex you." Draco stared at him stonily, not exactly the response he wanted. This was not going the way Harry wanted but then he never expected it to be easy. "As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, I haven't been able to sleep peacefully for some time. Vol…He Who Must Not Be Named has been getting his kicks by plaguing me with some nice nightmares that he probably stores _just for me. A few days ago there was a particularly, ah…_interesting_ one."_

"What are you getting at, Potter, just spit it out already." Malfoy did not sound happy.

Harry averted his eyes and made it a point to stare holes in the wall behind Malfoy. "This particular nightmare was as gruesome as all the others but…there was one big difference," Harry cleared his throat nervously, readying himself for an explosive reaction, "you were in it, being tortured."

Harry cringed as if someone was going to strike him but there was nothing, not even a sound. He cautiously looked at Draco; the boy was staring at him blankly, unblinkingly. "And what is your point here, Potter, because I can't grasp it." Even the voice was monotonous.

"Since this time I actually have contact with one of the witches or wizards in my nightmares I need to have reassurance."

"Reassurance of what exactly?" The voice bit Harry and he felt sorry for asking.

"That it's just dreams." Harry looked pitifully at Malfoy, who was still in a state of shock.

"Well, Potter, I'm sure you're dying to hear me say that those pleasant dreams that you've been agonizing over were just ravings of your own mind but…it seems that not only against your, but also my wishes, it's not just dreams." The blond head was hung low and the wide eyes were staring at the stone floor. "The blood, the whip…the pain, the ripping, tearing pain."

Harry was now staring at Draco, he had not expected a confession, and he felt saddened. No one deserved to be beaten like Malfoy was, except maybe Voldemort. He reached out a hand to show his understanding of the pain that Draco went through.

Shrinking away from the hand, Malfoy almost shrieked, "Don't touch me!"

Draco wanted to sob and there was an overwhelming feeling of sorrow. The memory of the pain flared and tears seeped out of the tightly shut eyes, nothing could hold them in. Harry watched helplessly as Draco slid down the wall until he finally thumped, none too gently, onto the floor.

Harry stepped closer, still bewildered by this reaction, but as soon as did Malfoy put one arm over his face as to ward of blows and the other was held out as if barring the way closer. He did not expect Malfoy to break down and fall apart like this. Harry halted but when the Slytherin started convulsing with sobs that he held in, Harry kneeled in front of the shaking figure. Taking the extended hand he pulled Malfoy closer, enveloping him and offering comfort.

Surprisingly, Malfoy did not resist and he clung desperately to Harry's robes. He cried softly, quiet sniffles and sobs muffled by Harry's robes.

The shaking soon subsided and Draco lay inert as if dead but his chest was still rising and falling, a very good sign. Finally the blond head was raised and Harry found himself looking into very red and swollen eyes, the expression that accompanied them was composed.

Malfoy rose, looking dignified and straightened his robes. "Thank you, Potter."

The Gryffindor rose as well hastily rubbing at the wet spots on the front of his robe. His legs tingled and ached once he was upright. Harry nodded in acknowledgement to the thanks, not knowing what to say next he decided to lighten the mood, "Malfoy, now look what you've done – my robes are all wet." 

To his credit, Malfoy smirked, "If I were you, Potter, I would save those robes and give them to Weasley. I'm sure he could sell it somewhere, Malfoy tears are fashionable these days," and so our favorite git was returning. "And don't you dare breath any of this to anyone, you hear?"

Harry smiled in return, "Goodnight, Malfoy." He turned away and started walking back to bed; all this drama had made his tired, very tired.

"I hope you heard me, Potter!" Satisfied, Draco sighed with relief and started his track back to the Slytherin dorm. His head ached terribly, some sleep would be advisable.

Draco felt lighter than he had in days. Someone now knew and even though it was the do-gooder Potter, everything seemed lighter now. Maybe things can be made right again, after all, this was Potter we're talking about.

**To Be Continued…**

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**Next Installment: Will be coming as soon as I write it, where Voldemort makes a grand appearance, a Death Eater redeems himself, and the Golden Boy is the hero again, sort of. To receive it earlier just sign up at the message board and all new stories and chapters will be mass e-mailed to all members.**

**A/N:** Feedback still appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** **Fall Apart – Chapter 3**

**Author:** **Nevoreiel**_(lamort_noir@hotmail.com)_

**Pairing:** **Draco/Harry**

**Rating:** **R**

**Summary:** A mind haunted by memories; a mind tortured by forced visions; the Dark Lord who was the cause of it all; who will fall apart first?

**Disclaimer:** All familiar characters and situations are Copyright by J. K. Rowling and Co.

**Notes:** Great big thanks to Angela and Silver for beta reading, what would I do without you guys?

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Draco was just drifting off to sleep, his eyes heavy, when a shadow leaned over him. He had not heard anyone enter and was instantly alarmed. The last time he had been awoken in the middle of the night was still fresh in his mind and the events that followed still haunted him.

The face came into focus; it was Professor Snape shaking him awake. Draco was paralyzed with fear, his eyes wide and face set. The elder's eyes were somber and Draco had painful recollections of cruel words and blows. It could not be happening again. Not again.

"The Lord calls for your presence tonight, Draco. Get up and get dressed, we must leave quickly." Snape turned away as Draco stood up and mechanically pulled on whatever clothes fell under his hand.

He tried thinking of ways to evade the confrontation but there was nothing that could save him even from the smallest amount of pain. He knew that Voldemort was ruthless but this was getting ridiculous, if he wanted to make Draco a Death Eater, all this elaborate torture seemed over the top. But maybe Draco was just underestimating him.

Snape led Draco through the Hogwart's corridors, quietly and stealthily. The man obviously did not want them to be spotted and questioned, time was of the essence.

They stepped out onto the school grounds and Draco froze as he saw his father's carriage awaiting them. Snape prompted him and Draco reluctantly stepped forward. His muscles were protesting and he wanted to run, run away from his father and whatever lay in his future. Nothing…agreeable was to come of this.

A pale hand opened the carriage door and his father beckoned him closer, "Hurry up, Draco, we must leave now!" His voice was strained and he looked both angry and scared. If Lucius was scared then things were not going to be pleasant for Draco. No. Not pleasant at all.

--- 

Meanwhile, having been unable to fall asleep, Harry decided to smell the fresh air and maybe get a few laps around the field on his broom; might as well do something useful with his time. After a few laps and well calculated moves Harry had decided to cool down. He was staring wistfully at the stars, covered securely in his invisibility cloak, sheltered form the cold and prying eyes when he saw Draco's blond head accompanied by none other than Snape emerging from the castle. He was instantly alarmed. When Draco and Snape disappeared inside a carriage, waiting at the entrance, and it started rolling away, Harry knew something was amiss.

He thought of Draco sobbing in his arms, more than a bit broken inside, and with resolve he took up his broom and took off after the swiftly departing carriage.

The notion that Voldemort might be waiting for him crossed Harry's mind but he was off to save someone and his own well-being was irrelevant. He kept his distance as the carriage wound its way towards some sinister spot.

_All this hero stuff will get me in so__ much trouble, Harry thought idly._

--- 

Draco was uncomfortably seated between the two adults, he felt trapped and his muscles twitched in anticipation of whatever was to come. Neither Snape nor his father spoke and they avoided looking directly at Draco, shamed by their helplessness to stop any of it – whatever _it was._

The carriage glided smoothly over the dirt road, far from any apparent civilization and far from any help. The ride seemed to drag on forever but it was far too short in Draco's opinion. The carriage came to a stop and Draco's stomach lurched. He felt like bawling and begging his father to let him stay in the safety of the carriage but his Malfoy pride and his father's words, schooling him to act like the pureblood he was, calmed him. He carefully stepped out into the night air after Snape.

They were in a bare place, with a few scraggly trees here and there and a ruinous thing that might have been a castle a few centuries ago. Leave it to Voldemort to pick such a bleak place; even the snow could not cast a cheery light on it all.

A sigh came from the darkness and the cloaked figures emerged from the yawning whole in the castle wall, Voldemort walked among them, smiling for no apparent reason.

Lucius stepped towards the vile figure and bowed reverently.

"How nice of you to join us Lucius, Severus, Draco…" those eyes lingered on him and Draco's skin prickled with the unwholesome gaze. "Tonight I will set my plan in motion and you," the bony finger pointed at Lucius, "will have the honor to take the first step."

"I thank you, my Lord," Lucius' eyes were downcast and though he sounded pleased, he looked a little ill. After all, whatever plan Voldemort had thought up was not going to be pleasant for all involved.

Noticing the pallor of the elder Malfoy's skin, Voldemort laughed coldly. "Oh, don't worry, Lucius, dementors are not _so_ terrible. Besides," the Dark Lord rubbed his two spidery hands together, "you have your son to think of. Nothing can be too terrible if it means the well-being of dear Draco, can it?"

"Of course not," Lucius said, his voice cracked a bit. _You vile bastard, blackmailing me with the safety of my only son, my heir, my future, Lucius thought__. But on the outside he only kept his cold face and left his eyes dull, free of emotion._

"Then get moving; I count on your skill to guide you. Be sure to free every single wizard in that prison; Azkaban must be mine by night's end." There was a maniacal glint in his eyes and they danced with excitement. Lucius mentally chided himself for ever getting involved with a power mad and over zealous Dark Lord. He was already thinking of a way to salvage the situation and save his future.

Lucius bowed once more and disappeared with a pop. 

Draco at once felt exposed even though Snape hovered behind him. Voldemort stepped closer and Draco saw the madness in the serpentine face. "You don't look worse for wear since our last…encounter." The repulsive hand was raised and it hovered uncertainly next to Draco's pale check, never touching, just lingering. Draco forgot how to breathe. When the hand fell away, he inhaled sharply.

"You better hope, Draco, for you father's success. You will tremble if he fails." The red eyes stared the shivering boy down.

Draco was frozen to the spot, pure fear coiling in his stomach. He didn't think he could take threats, especially not ones from Voldemort.

Voldemort strode away towards the hulking mass of stones and stood thoughtfully, gazing at the ruined thing.

He spoke to his Death Eaters, "Do as you like now but no serious harm is to be done until I say so. You disobey and you will pay the price." Voldemort gestured lazily in Draco's general direction.

The figures descended upon Draco and he cringed inwardly. The only positive thing about all this, as Draco saw it, was the fact that it would not be Voldemort doing the torturing. There could be no one as ruthless as Voldemort.

Before the cruel hands and wands ever reached him there was a blur of color streaking though the ranks of Death Eaters. There were bursts of light and a few of the cloaked figures dropped to the ground. In the confusion that followed someone was bright enough, or maybe it was just blind luck, to knock the thing flitting through the air to the ground.

With dawning horror, Draco realized that it was Harry Potter. Oh, of all the stupid things to do, flying into a knot of Death Eaters ready for blood was one of the stupidest.

Harry stood up, his broom lying at his feet, and brandished his wand at the menacing figures. Voldemort strode towards the chaos and the pain of that closeness almost made Harry drop his wand. Voldemort looked vaguely pleased.

"How nice of you to join us, Mr. Potter," Voldemort had taken out his own wand and without using much of his power; Harry's wand was sailing through the air into the Dark Lord's hand. After their particular encounter during Harry's fourth year, Voldemort was loathe to let the boy keep his wand. Never underestimate a wizard even if he was such a sorry sight. "I shall enjoy killing you _very_ slowly."

Harry looked a little shocked at the loss of his wand. He looked helplessly at Draco and then Severus Snape, who had remained motionless during Harry's entrance, neither gave any indication of any emotion.

"Take our guest to a more appropriate place. We must get ready for a celebration in his honor." Voldemort walked towards he ruined castle and Harry was roughly grabbed and pushed along. Snape followed with Draco close by.

The decidedly bad day had just been turned worse and the simple task of just keeping himself alive had expanded for Draco and Harry looked like he needed more saving than he did.

Harry knew that screaming for help was useless. And struggling was useless as well, as he found out the hard way; cruel fingers only too eager to grasp tighter. Harry's face was scrunched up in concentration and he glanced longingly at his wand, held tightly in Voldemort's hand.

Snape took Draco's hand in his and squeezed once for reassurance. Draco was not as optimistic and did not squeeze back.

True to his word, Voldemort did throw a party of sorts, for his faithful Death Eaters, anyway. With a flick of his own wand he conjured a few barrels and flasks of some noxious alcoholic liquid and set them loose upon it. Snape reluctantly left and Draco was ordered to stay.

The two who held Harry let go of his arms and followed the other Death Eaters. Harry was a bit taken aback by his sudden freedom but then, as an afterthought, Voldemort put a full body bind on Harry and levitated him into an adjoining cavern, which miraculously lit itself.

Draco's legs carried him automatically after the floating Harry and his mind was numb. He could not shock himself into thinking beyond the panic freezing his insides.

The Golden Boy fell to the ground with a thump at Draco's feet and Draco jerked back in surprise. Voldemort turned on the helpless Harry and ignored the blond completely, a relief for Draco.

"It was _awfully _nice of you, Mr. Potter, to serve yourself up to me on a silver platter. Though it is a terrible pity that we could not have met under friendlier circumstances but, what can I say," he smiles, revealing pale gums and teeth, "it's not an unwelcome interruption."

He turned his wand on Harry, took off the body bind, and with great pleasure said "Crucio." Harry writhed pathetically on the ground and Draco had to look away. He almost felt the curse on his own skin, burning and breaking him apart. It seemed to last forever, the curse lifting and then being muttered again, but finally Voldemort tired of it.

Taking advantage of Harry's vulnerability, the aftershocks still physically restraining him, Voldemort came closer. So he was afraid of the Boy Who Lived even without his wand. The hem of his robes brushed the tips of Harry's fingers and instinctively Harry grabbed at it, pulling feebly. Unceremoniously, Voldemort stepped on the offending hand and there was a sickening crack and a short scream.

"You really disgust me. How did you ever manage to beat me repeatedly when you are so young and dim-witted?" his face was set in a scowl but his eyes shone with anticipation. It was apparent that Voldemort hated Harry then, hated him for his luck and for his Gryffindor courage.

The wand was aiming at Harry's heart and the words were forming on the Dark Lord's lips; it seemed all would be over soon and the boy would lose its Boy Wonder. Draco was seized by a terrible fear. He could not just stand by while the Golden Boy was killed like an animal. No matter how much he disliked him, he could not ignore the fact that if it hadn't been for him, Harry wouldn't even be here.

Cursing himself and knowing that the result of his insubordination would be very, very painful, he screamed, "Stop!"

To Draco's surprise, Voldemort actually halted and the Killing Curse was incomplete.

The Dark Lord's eyes glowed threateningly, "You dare stop me, boy? Has your father taught you nothing?" Keeping his own wand trained on Harry, he swung Harry's at Draco.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting the curse that was sure to hit him any minute but it never came. Instead he heard a thud and then a thump. Opening one eye cautiously, he saw Voldemort lying on the floor, the wands far out of his reach. Snape stood with a full flask of some viscous liquid held high, looking a bit surprised that it had actually worked as did both boys.

So the Dark Lord was not invincible after all. It seemed that even Voldemort could not take hard liquor without some…complications.

**To Be Continued…**

--------------------------------

**Next Installment: Will be coming as soon as I write it where we see Cornelius Fudge's stupidity, finally meet those dementors and Draco gets his revenge at a price. To receive it earlier just sign up at the message board and all new stories and chapters will be mass e-mailed to all members.**

**A/N:** Feedback still appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** **Fall Apart – Chapter 4**

**Author:** **Nevoreiel **_(lamort_noir@hotmail.com)_

**Pairing:** **Draco/Harry**

**Rating:** **R**

**Summary:** A mind haunted by memories; a mind tortured by forced visions; the Dark Lord who was the cause of it all; who will fall apart first?

**Disclaimer:** All familiar characters and situations are Copyright by J. K. Rowling and Co.

**Notes:** Damn, why can't I stick to simple "you-torture-me-so-I-will-get-my-revenge" story, it had to become complicated, didn't it? Huge thanks to Angela and Silver for the beta and patience.

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A moment of utter stillness passed before Harry snapped out of his stupor and scrambled towards Voldemort's prone body. He grabbed the two wands, holding both in his left hand as his right looked swollen and mottled blue and purple already.

Draco was horrified and first glanced at the Potions Master, still with the bottle tightly clutched in his hands, then to Harry, who was unsteadily rising to his feet. Things were getting out of hand and he felt afraid for himself and Snape and even for Harry. The thought of witnessing Harry's death had shaken him and Draco did not know precisely why.

"Professor Snape?" Harry's voice sounded small and unsure, amazed at the fall of Voldemort but refusing to believe it's over. It has never been_ this easy. Voldemort could rise up and kill Harry right on the spot. He bound the wizard with Voldemort's wand and slowly stepped backed never taking his eyes off the body, ready for the slightest movement that would indicate awareness._

The flask slipped through Snape's fingers and fell to the stones with a dull thunk but remained intact. No wonder the bottle had actually knocked Voldemort unconscious. Snape was still in shock over his own actions and feared the repercussions if Voldemort awoke now. His eyes were wide and he whipped his head in Harry's direction, pulled back to the present from the gruesome future by Harry's voice.

He opened his mouth but seemed to change his mind; he straightened up and seemed to look stronger. "Yes, Mr. Potter?" his tone was a bit more pleasant than usual, not as icy as the tone he especially reserved for Harry.

"D'you think you could summon a few Aurors or a few hundred, as many as possible really?" Harry laughed uneasily, he was starting to panic and the body before him did nothing to reassure him. The whole immensity of the situation was dawning on him and it seemed to be ridiculous if not for its gravity.

Snape stood a moment, unsure what to make of the request.  Then, resolutely he gathered his strength and disapparated.

Draco inched closer to Harry, needing to have the reassurance of wands near at hand when he did not have his own. Harry looked at the silent Slytherin and after a moment's thought threw Voldemort's wand at him. If he could not keep Voldemort down with only one wand then he was dead anyway.

Taken by surprise, Draco caught the wand awkwardly, almost dropping it. He held it with faint disgust but was relieved to finally have a wand in his possession.

He stood behind Harry now. It was funny how a situation had a way of reversing itself. Sudden anger flared in Draco and he wished to kill the prone figure. Kill all the evil Voldemort stood for and all the pain. He gritted his teeth to keep from shouting the killing curse. There was no guarantee that it wouldn't bounce off and kill him instead.

Harry made a small sound and spoke hesitantly, "Why do you think it actually worked? Fancy the Dark Lord, undefeatable and feared by all, taken down by a bottle of alcohol." He chuckled lightly. "He'll be the laughing stock of the wizarding world…"

"If they ever get over the shock," Draco cut in. Harry smiled at Draco, risking a glance at him. Draco smiled back.

Severus was successful in his task as in the next moment the room was filled with a dozen or more wizards. They looked skeptical but once they saw the body lying on the floor they froze. Snape stood fuming.

Every wand that was not already pointing at the body was trained on it now and there were orders shouted. Cornelius Fudge elbowed his way towards the front and did not look impressed when he saw the black figure sprawled face down on the stones.

"What is the meaning of this Severus? You come barging in, raving like a lunatic about Voldemort and have only a measly dark wizard to show for it?" The Minister of Magic came closer and turned the body over with the toe of his boot.

The body rolled over heavily and muttering started up when the face, white as bone, was revealed. The mouth was set in a scowl and dark blood had trickled over the left temple.

Cornelius had to step back; the expression on that drawn face had disquieted him. "Apprehend this wizard!"

There was a flurry of motion as Aurors and other various Ministry personnel completely immobilized the unconscious figure. Someone caught sight of Harry's injured hand and expertly healed it. The wand Draco held tightly was snatched away with a glare, Draco glared back. He and Draco were herded outside and the floating Dark Lord was given a wide berth as he was moved out of the ruined castle into the clearing.

The chamber into which the Death Eaters went into, ready to celebrate the Dark Lord's victory over Harry Potter, was deathly quiet. A team was sent to scour the area. They emerged out of the dark chamber with the Death Eaters trailing behind them, blissfully asleep. Draco had a feeling that it was Snape's doing and he was glad for it. He was also very relieved that his father was not present.

Harry was shifting uneasily, he felt that he had to follow Voldemort and watch over the body, just in case. It all seemed too easy.

Cornelius Fudge blustered over to them and taking Harry aside glancing sideways at Draco, he said in a lowered voice, "We've everything under control and I think it'd be wise if you did not do anything rash, Mr. Potter."

"Rash? What d'you mean rash?" Harry was a bit puzzled. He'd not been expecting praise from anyone, much less the Minister, but this admonition was preposterous. After all he did not do anything this time that could merit it.

"I understand how you must feel about your parent's…unfortunate demise so I must ask you to use your utmost discretion and please to try to keep your vengeful feelings at bay." The Minister smiled encouragingly and left a baffled Harry to stare wide-eyed at Draco. Harry had the urge to laugh uproariously but decided to keep it in check.

"Fancy that, him telling me what to do. I think thoughts of grandeur have finally skewered his reality."

Draco shrugged noncommittally but he knew that whatever happened he had to get at least one good stab at Voldemort before the dark wizard was sentenced to one gruesome death or another.

Harry's voice cut into his daydream. "What do you reckon they'll do to him?"

"Azkaban seems a mercy." Edging closer Draco leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear. "What do you think is happening there now? My father has not yet returned and I fear for him."

The Gryffindor looked at him sympathetically and Draco bristled at the pity. Now, come to think of it, his father was no fool, surely he would find a way out of the whole mess. Nodding resolutely to himself he followed Harry, not really caring where they were going. 

Though it was expected, Harry was startled when Dumbledore apparated into the clearing. Harry almost ran to the wizard, Draco tagged along.

The genial wizard looked kindly upon the boys, "As I see you're both quite alright, shall we make our way over to the proceedings?"

Both boys were quick to agree. In the next instant a whole gathering of witches and wizards appeared. They looked apprehensive and some were fearful. Some glanced strangely at the boys; obviously they thought they had no right to be there. They whispered to each other and moved together towards the Minister.

Harry had a suspicion that the trial was not for the benefit of the accused but more to show the overall fairness of the Ministry. Or maybe Cornelius Fudge just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. He didn't look too good upon closer inspection, fidgeting and muttering quietly to himself.

The wizards formed a semicircle around the prone body but everyone kept at a safe distance. 

Harry thought it rather silly to have Voldemort here at all as he could not protest for innocence. This was not really a trial, more of an outright death sentence if not something worse.

The Minister cleared his throat importantly and started reading from a document clutched tightly in his hands, "Trying of one… Tom Riddle for various crimes, some of which are too vile to utter hear, among them use of all three of the Unforgivable curses on Muggles and Wizards alike, the murder of Lily and James Potter, the many murder attempts on their young son, constant spurning of any attempts at justice, propaganda, depravity…."

Harry ceased listen to the long diatribe. He glanced at Dumbledore and was not at all surprised that the wizard was not astonished at the mentioned crimes. Harry was brought back to the hearing when the Minister ceased talking to get a breath.

"For these said crimes it has been decided that Tom Riddle is to receive the dementor's kiss and spend the rest of his life locked away in a safe ward in the prison Azkaban." There were sage nods all around. Draco stifled laughter, as it would be wholly inappropriate, but the fact that a sentence was being passed on a man that could not hear it was not exactly a standard procedure.

Both Harry and Draco, however, were concerned that the dementor's would be brought in immediately to carry out the sentence. That would not do as both would surely relive their worst moments yet again.

There was another pop as a little wizard appeared and quickly made his way to the Minister and whispered urgently into his ear. The news were not pleasing, judging by the furious look on Cornelius Fudge's face.

The Minister cleared his throat addressed the congregation, "It appears that the dementors are indisposed at the moment. As they are unable to perform their duties, Tom Riddle will be held in confinement."

Draco stiffened; the new development could only mean that his father had succeeded in luring the dementors from their posts in Azkaban. The news were thoroughly bad, not only was Voldemort still rational but his father was in danger of being caught by the Aurors.

When Harry spoke there was a shocked silence. "Isn't there another way?"

The Minister glowered at the boy, "And what are you proposing?"

Harry stepped forward boldly and took out his wand. "I am willing to finish this now." His throat was tight with fear but he would not back down now.

"Mr. Potter, are you aware of what you're suggesting?"

"Yes, I've thought it through…I think." Harry hesitated but the coddling look that the Minister gave him hardened his resolve and he nodded for effect.

"With the authority given me, I do not think it'd be wise Mr. Potter. You should leave this to the professionals." The voice as well as the Minister's face were wholly condescending.

"Now, Cornelius, be reasonable. Mr. Potter should be allowed his chance and you must understand that it'd be very dangerous to keep Voldemort under lock when there's a chance of his escape. Although I do not wholly agree with the method, Mr. Potter has every right to try to end it today," Dumbledore spoke calmly, his eyes fixed upon the Minister.

"I ask you, Albus, to let _me decide the affairs of the Ministry." Cornelius shot an angry glare Dumbledore's way. The Minister stood up straighter and shuffled the sheaf of parchment. Clearing his throat for effect he spoke to the witches and wizards who gathered around him. "Who is in favor of this proposition?"_

The vote was unanimous; no one wished to keep Voldemort alive for more time than necessary.

The moment belonged to Harry. He neared the unconscious wizard and gathered all his anger and hate for him; readying himself to put some feeling behind the words. It was Voldemort's fault that he never really knew his parents. And it's his fault that Harry had to endure the insults from the Dursleys for so long. It's his fault that Harry had to fight for his life more times than he wished to count. Nothing to do now but make him pay.

Draco watched with a sick fascination. He quickly glanced around the congregation – everyone was frozen in anticipation. When his gaze fell on Professor Snape, Draco suddenly thought of something. Looking imploringly at his Head of House, he asked for Snape's wand; it was given to him reluctantly. Quickly grabbing an old dried out branch from the ground, Draco transfigured it into a dagger, cold and sharp, the steel shining magically.

As Harry raised his wand, Draco shouted, "Stop!"

Harry halted – his mouth open, ready to say the curse. His eyebrows drew together in confusion and he looked quizzically at Draco as did everyone else.

Resolutely, Draco strode towards the body and looking imploringly at Harry, explained himself, "If he can be knocked out by a simple bottle, can't he be killed by a simple knife? Think about it. Is it worth risking your life when you can try it my way? If it doesn't work then no harm done. But what if the Killing Curse does not work on Voldemort, what it kills you instead?" As an afterthought, he smiled and added, "Wouldn't want you exploding all over my new robes, eh, Potter?"

Harry looked thoughtful and then stretched out his hand for the knife but Draco drew it back. "Let me have the first cut and then you can rip him apart."

One corner of Harry's lips turned up in a wry smile but there was no humor in it. He took a step back as if to give Draco some space.

Crouching, Draco grabbed Voldemort's sparse hair viciously and exposed the throat. There was a murmur in the crowd and the Minister looked uncomfortable but held his tongue. After all, everyone was all for whatever Harry Potter thought was right.

With one clean stroke, Draco cut a line across the outstretched throat, right below the chin. At first only a thin line of blood appeared but then it welled and spilled forth in a gush. Draco stumbled away, pant knees soaked with warm blood. Wordlessly, he handed the dagger, blade stained red, to Harry who grasped it firmly.

His face contorted in hate – Harry drew back his arm and stuck the blade into Voldemort' heart, the steel scraping on bone. Draco turned away as flesh ripped on another downward stroke.

Eyes intent on the task at hand, Harry drew the knife downward sharply, hearing with some satisfaction the bone splintering, opening the cavity. Blood soaked his robe sleeves a dark crimson and his hands slick with it as he held onto the knife. When the blade snagged in the lower abdomen, he yanked it out, bloody tendrils streaming.

The Minister, looking very green, stepped forward, mouth open to speak but Dumbledore put a restraining arm on his shoulder and turned him away from the scene, shaking his head in negation. Many others had also turned their backs; some to give him privacy, most because they could not take the sight. Dumbledore was saddened that so much anger had been pent up for so long, so he let Harry take it out on Voldemort and did not interfere.

Hair wild and obscuring his vision, Harry swiped at his forehead with the bloody arm, leaving a trail of red across his skin. 

Panting from the anger and adrenaline, he readied to do what he originally intended to do with the knife. The anger carried him away…a bit.

The knife slipped from his fingers and dropped at his feet. It was almost as if the world had suddenly been tinted red, or, maybe it was just Harry. He imagined those red eyes opening once more and his heart stilled for a beat at the thought. Gathering strength and, somewhat squeamishly, he reached inside the gaping hole and angled his hand upward to grasp the heart. It slid under his fingers and the vicarious tissue pulled at his hand. 

  
A sucking noise cut through the startled silence in the clearing as Harry ripped the heart out and exposed it to the air. Someone fainted.

Harry held the red thing in his hand, staring at it with faint disgust. He half-expected it to be black. Thinking of all the countless victims that fell under Voldemort's curses, Harry threw the heart on the ground and then stomped it into the dust.

Staring at his hands, Harry realized that he must look frightful. Wiping his hands on his robes, he cleaned them as best he could. He reached inside his robes and retrieved his wand. As a final cleansing act, he set the remnants of the heart and the body on fire with a well-aimed _Incendio__ spell._

Everyone seemed to breath easier even though the air stank of charred flesh and smoke.

Harry turned to the witches and wizards gathered in the clearing, most did not look him in the eye. Harry smiled with some difficulty and said in a raspy voice, "Well, now that that's over…" Draco and Dumbledore were the only ones to smile back.

Dumbledore went to Harry and led him away from the charred spot on the ground, all that was left of Voldemort. Draco joined Harry and walked beside him right out of the press of wizards. Harry thought he was going to be sick, but he was not the only one.

Harry felt strangely empty, sick feeling aside, not exactly satisfied when, suddenly, he realized that his scar no longer stung.

**To Be Continued…**

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**Next Installment: Will be coming as soon as I write it where we find out just where the Dementor's went and, what's this? Draco and Harry getting along? To receive it earlier just sign up at the message board and all new stories and chapters will be mass e-mailed to all members.**

**A/N:** Feedback still appreciated.


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